


gimme a break

by deniigiq



Series: Blindspot and the Ordeal of Being Known [9]
Category: Daredevil (Comics), Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Cooking, Gen, He doesn't deserve this, Peer Pressure, Sam's just trying to produce content, Social Media, Twitter, dramatic behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:27:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24432076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deniigiq/pseuds/deniigiq
Summary: “Perhaps so, but consider: there are no Greenies in hell,” Matt told Hazel conversationally.“Teach, you’re embarrassing yourself off-camera,” Sam sighed.(Sam attempts a cooking video upon request of his twitter followers. It's a struggle.)
Relationships: Samuel Chung & Matt Murdock, Samuel Chung & the Dogs
Series: Blindspot and the Ordeal of Being Known [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1658656
Comments: 21
Kudos: 424





	gimme a break

**Author's Note:**

> I like the idea of Sam flicking through his messages for inspiration for what content to let his followers in on.

**@XXBKNxx:** BT what brand are those shoes?

 **@wordmachine:** BT have you ever thought about doing a sponsorship with someone?

 **@Nutrinix:** Hey, BT! You’re looking fine under that shirt there. Do you have a fitness routine? Would you like to share on our page?

 **@Btgfuturwife:** BT you’re in my area tonight. I’ll leave my window open 😉

 **@notaspidey:** hey what do you do with your arms man? I’m trying to switch things up and

Sam couldn’t read any more of this.

“I am being objectified,” he announced as Matt closed the front door behind him.

Matt paused in surprise for a moment. The dogs looked up at him in confusion.

“I’m…sorry?” he tried.

It was good enough.

“Thanks, teach, carry on,” Sam said.

He went back to his phone and, after a moment, heard Matt stiffly making his way up the stairs.

**@JJxyz98:** Blindspot can you make a fitness video? I’ve felt bad about my weight lately and doing one made by you seems like it wouldn’t be the worst

 **@ginnywhorl:** BT I want to get BUFF. I want to THROW A MAN OVER MY SHOULDER. Does DD do self defense classes?

 **@hwchamp:** hey BT do you think you’ll ever film on of yours and Sensei’s training sessions?

 **@jujube:** sorry English isnt my 1st language. Can you and sensei do a video together again?

 **@Ddevilforshort:** BT did you have to get buff before DD took you on or did that happen afterwards?

 **@leeeeeee:** hey BT could you show us what you eat in a day? Or maybe your favorite weeknight recipe?

That.

That, he could actually do.

Matt had been on video once and he’d decided that that was fun and exciting and he never needed to do it ever again. He was resistant to making a fitness advice video and expressed this by casually wandering out of whatever room Sam was in when he mentioned it.

He found all sorts of excuses and had even made a special little ‘wow! Look at that! I’m suddenly busy!’ tune to hum to help him move along through the house.

Sam felt determination growing in his chest.

Matt could be tricked into doing things mostly if he thought that they were his idea first, so Sam took to telling Tuesday about the commenters after work.

“They’re askin’ some good questions, Tues,” he told her reliably. “Self-defense and clean-eating stuff. I mean, I’m sure they could find that kind of thing online, but it’s kind of flattering that they trust me and DD enough to ask us, huh?”

Tuesday wanted him to give her the tennis ball he was holding hostage. She danced a little on his feet.

“One of these days I’ll make a day-in-the-life-of video,” Sam told her, “But obviously, Sensei would have to okay it.”

Matt liked it when Sam called him ‘sensei.’ It got him all proud and fond and shit. It made him soft.

Tuesday whined.

Sam gave her the ball.

Hazel was less graceful about sitting the fuck still and letting Sam talk at her. She kept jumping up to grab the rope in his hand. That required scolding and that broke Sam’s concentration.

“Haze,” he warned. “If you keep this up, there’ll be no treats.”

Hazel translated this as ‘Sam wants to play with me _now_.’ She shuffled back and down, preparing to spring.

“No,” Sam scolded, stuffing the rope behind his back. “These are bad manners.”

Hazel didn’t get it.

“You’re useless to me,” Sam told her.

He gave her the rope anyways, but he made sure she knew that it was out of disgust and against his better judgement.

He changed tact and went to ask Kirsten where she’d learned how to fight people in New York.

“Dad,” she said immediately.

“Okay, but like, is there a resource?” he asked. “I’ve got people asking me to do some self-defense videos online right now, but Teach won’t greenlight it. So is there somewhere I can send them?”

“Class,” Kirsten said.

Unhelpful.

All the women in this house were so. Fucking. _Stubborn_.

God, someone _work_ with him here.

“Sammy,” Foggy said with a huge smile. “You’re going to live.”

It didn’t feel like it.

It felt like Sam’s forehead was going to become one with the kitchen table and he’d have to retrain to learn how to fight with the enormous weight of it balanced on his head for the rest of all time.

Foggy laughed.

“Matt’s not into simple self-defense and he’s not the world’s best cook,” he said. “He’ll just hold you back in either endeavor. We both know this.”

Maybe so.

But still.

“I want to do things _with_ Sensei,” Sam huffed. “I know he likes doing them with me. I _know_ it. And people like to see us as a team.”

Foggy’s smile flickered and his fingertips brushed his heart.

“Buddy, I know,” he said. “And Matt does like doing things with you, I promise. He just doesn’t want everyone in the world knowing that you’re his mentee right now. Do you know what I mean?”

No.

Anyone with a vague interest could look up Blindspot and find him linked to Daredevil. It was like the 8th link on the google page. The 12th link was to their AMA on Youtube.

“That’s not proof enough yet for other bigshots back East,” Foggy explained. “They’re waiting for an official declaration before they add you to their list of targets. Matt’s trying to hold that off for you for as long as possible.”

UGH.

Foggy’s smile flickered harder than ever as he tried not to burst out laughing.

“I know,” he said, “It’s hard not to throw yourself in the line of fire when everyone around you is trying to protect you, isn’t it?”

“I have things to do,” Sam grumbled, sliding off his chair and laying himself out on the floor.

“Oh, well, don’t let me stop you,” Foggy snickered.

He stepped carefully over all Sam’s limbs on the way to the stairs.

“SENSEI.”

“Boy, sit _down_.”

Sam flung himself face first onto the mat.

There was a pause.

“Samuel.”

“Yes?” he moaned.

Matt said nothing for a long time.

“Is that entirely necessary?” he finally asked.

“Is _what_ entirely necessary?” Sam shot back.

Matt sighed. Sam set his jaw and then shoved it back to the mat.

“How did he not just eat me?” Matt asked the rafters of the gym.

He talked to God sometimes. It was normal. He was always asking the Lord questions, and in the gym they tended to be about his own teacher’s tolerance of his bad attitude as a youth.

Sam refused to see how those questions might apply to him, Designated Familial Youth.

There was no need to. He was perfect.

Obviously.

“Is this about the videos?” Matt asked.

No.

“Sam.”

 _No_.

Matt’s knees popped when he settled down on the mat. Sam jerked his head away from the hand threatening to pet his hair in consolation.

Matt withdrew it and sighed without sighing. Sam could feel his frustration.

“Sam,” Matt said again after he’d regained his composure. “Some things are trade secrets—”

“Foggy said you don’t want me putting my ass out with yours because your enemies back home’ll put me on their hit list,” Sam interrupted. “I respect that. But the _pressure_ , Teach. Everyone online’s bullying me for content.”

Puppy eyes did not work on the old man. He seized his moment and got a hand on Sam’s chin that infuriatingly squished his cheeks.

“Good thing you’re not an influencer,” Matt told him amiably, shaking Sam’s face back and forth. “Good thing you’re a trainee, first and foremost.”

Ugh.

He wasn’t _wrong_.

Sam extracted his face from the grip and scrubbed at his cheeks. He tried not to scowl too loudly.

Matt still laughed at him.

“Listen,” he said, “You can make the videos. But I don’t want to be in them. That’s all.”

Sam huffed.

“Can I publicly shame you?” he asked.

Matt sucked in a breath and shook his head.

“Sure,” he said, fighting a smile. “You can shame me.”

“I’m gonna tell the world that you chew on cinnamon sticks,” Sam huffed.

“Come here, obnoxious young person,” Matt said.

No.

“Samuel.”

Hell no. A noogie that way lay.

“ _Sam_.”

“Teach, no.” Sam said. “You’re just gonna—”

He wasn’t fast enough. His guard was down like a _fool_. He made an embarrassing high-pitched sound when Matt’s fingers found the spaces between his ribs with laser precision.

Matt laughed so hard he wheezed, the fucker.

“You’re so cute,” he gushed.

“I’m telling the whole world that you keep trying to eat star anis,” Sam snapped.

“Up you go,” Matt said cheerfully, undaunted by his future public humiliation.

He even offered a hand down to Sam, as if he cared.

Sam decided that he’d just make spring rolls because why the fuck not? They were healthy-ish and cheap enough. He had a head of cabbage in the fridge wanting to be used already. He picked up some carrots and a new hunk of ginger on the way home from work and set about cleaning the kitchen within an inch of its life and moving things around to make it unrecognizable.

Cliff, the downstairs roommate, was staying with one of his long-term boyfriends for the weekend. He wouldn’t care if everything was out of whack for a day or so.

Sam checked the lighting to ensure it was as awkward as possible.

Matt had cleared a hands-only video with as little dog as possible. Sam tacked a sheet up over the downstairs kitchen entrance to confuse the hounds in case they meandered down to the first floor.

It was weird talking to a camera with no chat or questions on to help guide him.

He didn’t know what to say that wouldn’t sound super cliched or instructional, so he went with chatting in Mandarin--talking about how his mom spent ages trying to teach him how to make all kind of different recipes.

“She wasn’t home much,” he found himself saying, “So it was kind of nice to be able to be able to make her dishes for my sister so that we could pretend she was.”

Oh.

A little too close to home.

Reel it in, reel it in.

“My sister can’t cook for shit,” he said. “So apparently I am now the holder of all the family recipes. Be thankful I am passing down this one to y’all.”

Sniffing caught his attention.

He froze and looked slowly over his shoulder.

Hazel wagged her tail, half-in, half-out of the make-shift curtain.

“How long have you been there, Missy?” he snapped.

She scrambled back out of view and made sounds of going away to nose at the doorknob.

Sam scowled.

“No place in this house is safe from dogs,” he grumbled. “The old guy lets them roam free. Nothing is sacr—”

Panting. Again.

He whipped around.

“Out,” he ordered.

Hazel stopped panting and her ears went back.

“I _know_ you’re not taking that tone with my child,” Matt called from upstairs.

“I’m making a state-sanctioned video,” Sam called back up them after wrestling his way through the sheet. “Handle your monstrosity.”

Matt whistled. Hazel translated that as a distress signal and bustled around Sam’s legs to tear up the stairs like a fur tornado.

Messy. So messy.

“There’s only one good dog here, but don’t tell the old man I said that,” Sam told the camera when he got back to his cutting board. “Anyways, I asked him to come down and help me a thousand times but he lives entirely off dry spices in the cabinet upstairs so really, it’s a blessing that he’s bein’ a hermit.”

A whine.

Oooh. You mangy mutt.

“You’re askin’ for a time-out,” Sam told the curtain suspiciously.

Footsteps answered him, followed by the sound of Matt asking Hazel why she was so desperate to be on camera.

“This is how puppies end up at the pound,” he told her patiently on the other side of the sheet. “The RSPCA’s gonna come and take you away if they know you’re my dog. They’re gonna think I’m fattenin’ you up for a sacrifice to the big three-headed dog in the center of the earth.”

Hazel barked.

“That’s right,” Matt baby-talked. “And then they’re gonna send a priest ‘round here and that’s it. I’m toast.”

Hazel barked again.

“Perhaps so, but consider: there are no Greenies in hell,” Matt said conversationally.

“Teach, you’re embarrassing yourself off-camera,” Sam sighed.

There was a hiss outside followed by shooing noises. Sam waited until he could no longer hear the shooing or the sound of paws on the stairs.

“He says he’s not gonna be on camera,” he told his phone, “And yet somehow he manages to find his way down here. He’d die if he wasn’t the center of—”

The dogs upstairs exploded into chaos at the sound of a key turning in the lock of the front door.

Foggy was home, apparently.

He had groceries in his arms and he only noticed after about two minutes of shouting at the house guards that Sam was, in fact, _doing something_.

He apologized, but it was fine.

Sam had shared too much in the beginning of his video anyways. He needed to scrap most of it and dial things back.

“Take two,” Sam told his phone the next day. “No dogs. No springrolls either, sorry. We’re gonna try it in English this time too because the Bad Girl doesn’t like me as much when I use it. Also, just so you know, everyone normally in this household is home, including the Real Boss, so we will be having no more incidents like the last time I tried to do this. I hope you enjoyed what you got. Okay, so. Today, with leftovers before me, I am going to make hand pulled noodles with a chili sauce. I dunno what it’s called in English, but it’s healthy and cold and it is blazing in this godforsaken city. So here we—”

Was that?

Panting?

He heard?

He jerked his face to the makeshift curtain.

Hazel wriggled in delight.

“ _You_ ,” Sam hissed.

She panted hard and clattered her nails against the first kitchen tile.

“Don’t you even think about it,” Sam told her abandoning his phone to grab her collar. “It’s upstairs time for puppies. Upstairs with Papa. You _love_ Papa. He wants to roast you. See? A match made in hell— _Sensei_.”

He was halfway out into the hall when the doorbell rang.

Hazel tore her collar out of his hand.

The house once again erupted into noise.

He held his face and tried to breathe deep.

“This is the third and last I am going to attempt a goddamn cooking video,” he told his phone. “This is as healthy as I can manage for you. See? Ramen. Boil. Okay, stop. Drain. Packet of season—I’m watching you, dog. You see me? I’m watching you—sorry, what was I saying? Oh, right. Seasoning. Seasoning goes on top. Mixy-mix. Done. _Done_ , you horrible creature, do you see this? You haven’t won this time.” 

Hazel swung her tail back and forth like it was a mace.

Same squinted as hard as he could manage at her.

“The key to health,” he said through his teeth. “Is _spite_. That’s all you need. This is BT, signing off. I don’t want your sponsorships. Talk to your doctors. Bye.”

Hannah send him a laughin-crying face with the text ‘bro check your twitter. People LOVED your dog recipes.’

He…had a bad feeling about this.

**@Xng003:** omg BT vs. DD’s hounds: Grand Royale Battle

 **@HReality:** DD’s doggy-talk = ❤

 **@BTsfan2xover:** “and then you—NO BAD DOG. OUT—heat your oil to—WHY WOULD YOU EVEN DO THAT???—350 degrees” 😂I love BT so much

 **@kkvfun20:** BT has successfully taught us all how to make ramen in the most relatable way possible. Thank you, king.

Sam felt more tired than he had the day before.

**@punisherimritehere:** show us DD’s DOGS

 **@orange2003:** aww BT’s so sweet even when he’s mad

 **@hellotherexx7:** BT you’ve got great hands. (and technique. No for real can you post the eggroll recipe? The bit at the end before you cut away looked tasty.)

 **@blindspotnoticeme:** I have learned nothing about weight loss or defense training, but I want to here DD coo again. someone please loop that clip of him baby-talking please.

 **@XxiangxX:** that’s not an authentic recipe. I’m disappointed in you BT. The dog is very cute tho

Wild. The internet was wild.

**@hakeye:** someone tag the pink Spiderman

Oh, here we go.

**@Wildwildwildwildwest:** @littlespidey, is this fact? Is BT playing up the dogs’ badness levels?

 **@littlespidey:** BT man, put them outside. Put Red out there with them. He’ll be fine. Fresh air is good for old people.

 **@spiderman4.0:** puppies…

Why did he even bother?

**@blindspot:** Just wanted to make some points here 1) y’all are the ones who asked for eat-in-a-day vids 2) I cannot touch the dogs or sensei will end me without remorse. And 3) it _is_ an authentic recipe thanks very much haters, you can eat your purity culture ‘cause I don’t care about it 😊 okay byeeee

Hannah texted back ten minutes later to say ‘you really told ‘em, bro.’ and ‘it is SO authentic how DARE these people sully mom’s bad cooking’ and he laughed hard enough for Matt to poke his head downstairs to check on him.


End file.
